<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>For Good Luck by leo_minor</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598623">For Good Luck</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/leo_minor/pseuds/leo_minor'>leo_minor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kriegspiel EXTRAs [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(set mid-chapter 26 in the infirmary !), Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Kriegspiel, Fluff, Language of Flowers, M/M, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Storytelling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:35:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,509</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/leo_minor/pseuds/leo_minor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hold on just a second, Ravio had said. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but they’ve been so packed the scene feels like it’s years old. He’d run back in to get the scarf, hadn’t he, and the glint in his eye had proudly told he was happier to go, now it was slung around his neck. Link can't help but wonder what makes it so important that Ravio, without it, is incomplete.</p><p>“I’d be happy to tell you the story, if you wanna hear it.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Link/Ravio (Legend of Zelda)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kriegspiel EXTRAs [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626070</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Good Luck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The nurse has been very, very exhaustive with her instructions.</p><p>There’s something about her appearance and expression that demands attention – <em>quality </em>attention. Neither of them have been around her long enough to figure out what it is, but they’ve been drawing a list in the notepads left by their bedsides. With his left hand in such a poor state, Link actually isn’t doing very much, but Ravio is happy to scrawl down whatever comes into their heads as soon as she leaves the room. So far, they’ve noticed the sharp look in her eyes (<em>it’s sharp enough to leave a crease !), </em>the daunting glint of light reflecting off her teeth, and her freakish habit to smile when she’s angry. Ravio remarks she looks a lot like a shark. There’s no doubt in the fact there’s more to come.</p><p>Of course, that doesn’t mean they’ll <em>listen </em>to her.</p><p>On day one they’d been too impish and shell-shocked to put up much of an act, but practice makes perfect, and boy, they’ve practiced. The trick is to let their eyes go out of focus in her general direction and nod when her tone goes up. So far it works like a charm, and they don’t memorise a single word she says.</p><p>“…swear that I’ll take this to someone higher ranked ! If I see you out of bed again this afternoon I’ll simply have you kicked out ! See if healing ripped muscles is any fun outside in the cold ! If I catch one of you kneeling over the other again giggling like a bunch of school girls, you’ll get to experience it first hand ! This is a <em>hospital ward, </em>and I don’t care about your status or…”</p><p>Link’s ears flicker, and with the slight movement blocks out most of the sound, reducing frantic telling-off to a faraway drone. He gives Ravio a quick glance and finds him sitting in a similarly slumped way, hardly masking a bored little grimace. He’s braiding the loose strands off his blanket, occasionally looking up to check if she’s close to being done.</p><p>“…had better rest right away, or I’ll make you – I’d rather avoid heavy medication but the behaviour you’re displaying leaves me little room for choice ! Do you understand that your bodies need time to..."</p><p>He tilts his head slightly, rubbing the sore spot at the back of his neck. His eye catches Link’s in the process, and in an act of supreme courage, he winks his way. Link quickly swallows the grin threatening to give him away and casts his gaze back downwards.</p><p>“I’ll be taking my leave now,” the nurse sighs, dusting off her skirts. “I’ll close the curtains and the door. I expect you to <em>sleep</em>, and will be coming to check !”</p><p>“Yes ma’am,” Ravio says, dropping the hem of his blanket back onto his knees. Link nods his understanding as well.</p><p>She goes around the room pulling thick curtains together, tightening the clasp in the middle and hiding the windows from view. Light lessens with each new blind, before the only source left is the open door. The nurse gives them one last, long look before shutting it behind her, leaving them in complete darkness.</p><p>“Six minutes,” Ravio’s voice arises. “Is that her new record, d’you think ?”</p><p><em>“Nope,</em>” Link signs. <em>“She did seven ‘n a half on– ah, shit.”</em></p><p>“If you replied, I didn’t quite catch it, Mr Hero. I can’t even make out your face.”</p><p><em>“Just realised,” </em>he mouths, mostly to himself. The room is so dark that even the roughest of shapes are impossible to make out. A thin line of light evades the curtains behind his bed. Maybe they can open them for just a little while, and think of some kind of excuse…</p><p>Thus making up his mind, he leans on his forearms and tries to sit up, ignoring the aching tug in his leg. He nearly manages, both his elbows shaking under his weight, when he’s pushed back down with a rather loud thud. His spine cries in protest, but the new weight above him is laughing, and leans forward to place a hand on his chest, palm up.</p><p><em>“A warning would have been nice,” </em>Link traces, index drawing each letter one by one. He hopes Ravio can tell that he’s smiling.</p><p>“My, my ! I’m not <em>that </em>heavy !”</p><p>
  <em>“Says you.”</em>
</p><p>Ravio smacks his shoulder affectionately and adjusts his position, knees on either side of Link’s body. “Don’t be rude, Mr Hero,” he tries to say, but a yawn swallows half of his sentence and silences him for a moment. With his exhale, he leans forward and sets his head on Link’s chest, allowing his aching back to relax. There’s something about the weariness of his sigh that suggests they should have listened to the nurse. A few hours of sleep might do them good.</p><p>Link’s hand reaches for Ravio’s hair – today is one of those rare days when it’s untied, and it’s spread out all over his chest, tickling his chin. He coils a strand around his finger, his left hand awkwardly trailing up to stroke the top of his head. The gesture, all wrapped up in bandages and gauze, ends up more rough than gentle, and the Lorulean has to bite back a laugh. Link pouts and drops it, hand coming to a rest on the nape of Ravio’s neck. This time there’s little he can do to stop himself, and his body shakes with laughter.</p><p>“That tickles !” he protests, squirming under Link’s touch. “Get off !”</p><p>Link raises his eyebrow in that sly kind of way that always warns Ravio that something’s coming. Even in the dark, he can feel Link is wearing it again, the bastard, and grabs his wrist before the Hylian can make his move. “Don’t !”</p><p><em>“Squirmy much ?” </em>he grins, arm slackening in Ravio’s grasp. “<em>I barely touched you !”</em></p><p>He only gets a huff back, but it’s a rather amused huff, and the hold on his hand loosens. He rests it on his companion’s back, where it comfortably stays. Against his chest, he feels Ravio breathe out and reach to wrap his arms around him.</p><p>“I’m just used to having my neck covered up,” he admits quietly. “I wonder when they’ll give me my scarf back ! If they ever manage to get all that blood off it, that is.”</p><p>
  <em>“They can get the blood outta anything here.”</em>
</p><p>Ravio hums in response, resting the side of his head against Link’s chest. His fingers are fumbling with the stitches on the back of Link’s tunic, first picking, then pulling hard enough to rip the thread entirely. He breathes slowly, and with practiced confidence, but his exhale trembles just enough for Link to catch it. In the dark, every sound seems so loud.</p><p>
  <em>“Are you worried about it ?”</em>
</p><p>“A bit,” he mutters, his shrug making both of them wobble. “It’s worn and tattered but it’s followed me around for a while ! I’d hate to lose it now.”</p><p>Hold on just a second, Ravio had said. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but they’ve been so packed the scene feels like it’s years old. He’d run back in to get the scarf, hadn’t he, and the glint in his eye had proudly told he was happier to go, now it was slung around his neck.</p><p><em>“Was it a present ?” </em>he tries, taking his time writing each word. He feels Ravio smile against his chest.</p><p>“Good guess, Mr Hero ! Before you were around to smooch me, it’s where I got my good luck from.” He chuckles warmly, and the sensation travels through to Link’s chest. “I’d be happy to tell you the story, if you wanna hear it.”</p><p>Link nods, beckoning him on.</p><p>“Since Lorule and Hyrule are mirrors of each other, it’s to be expected that similar people can be found on both sides, right ? And while you don’t seem to have a Lurelei, I think I had a Rine.”</p><p><em>“You did ?</em>” Link inquires. He blinks dumbly for a moment, and reaches up to scratch his cheek. It’s one of the many things he might have been curious about, had he thought about them at all. True to himself, he had not.</p><p>Ravio huffs a laugh into his tunic. “You’re an excellent audience, but it’s a bit early to be so surprised ! Wait until I tell you the shocker !”</p><p>“<em>Well then, don’t keep me waiting !”</em></p><p>“Are you sure you’re quite ready for it ?”</p><p>A light flick to the forehead assures him that Link is.</p><p>“Fine ! Since you display such unseemly impatience, Mr Hero, I’ll spill it. It has to be pretty irregular, but Lorule had not one Rine, but two.”</p><p>A moment’s silence seeps through the room.</p><p>“Did you just <em>shiver ?”</em></p><p><em>“One Rine is enough Rines for me,” </em> he writes, and there’s a hint of mild fear in his voice. Words are hard to pick to describe the little girl, and while she’s cultured and well spoken and most definitely a wonderful child, she’s also the very definition of feral. <em>“How’s that even possible, anyway ?”</em></p><p>“They were twins,” Ravio explains, tilting his head onto its side. His voice is less muffled, and mayhap a tad more sad. Link tightens his hold on him, and he smiles gratefully into the dark. “One boy, one girl. When I saw Rine walk out of the forest with all that soot on her face, I understood what people say when they see us – same, but different. Y’know ?”</p><p>Link does.</p><p>“If I had to guess how old they were when I met them, I’d say seven or eight. At the start they’d just stand there and watch me, with these massive, round eyes, like curious owls. Describing it now it sounds all endearing ‘n sweet, but at the time I was what, thirteen ? Fresh out of Castle Town with a bag full of screws and bolts and a notebook’s worth of drafts. Lurelei told me I was worse than an alley cat, leaping at the sound of my own footsteps, and they weren’t exactly wrong ! So when I open my curtains one morning and find two kids staring right into my face, I –“</p><p>
  <em>“Squealed ?”</em>
</p><p>“I prefer the term <em>yelped</em>¸ Mr Hero, but that’s the gist of it. Nearly tripped over my own feet. The kids ran off and I thought I’d seen the last of them, but they were there again tomorrow, and the day after. I’d find them with their noses pressed against the glass even on my rest days. At the end of my work hours they’d be –“</p><p>Snoring gently, propped together against the windowsill and clinging to each other’s tattered clothes, the kids would take their afternoon nap in the dry grass around the windmill. Ravio feigns dismay until the day one of them sneezes. The sound is enough to break his resolve, and out come what few blankets he has to spare. He goes back to work for the night and, upon checking before blowing out the lights, finds the blanket neatly folded on his doorstep. On top of it sits a crumpled flower, root carefully woven into the wool.</p><p>One gesture is enough, and plucked flowers soon start to appear on a regular basis. A pretty white one appears one afternoon propped against the windowpane, and the next day a bouquet of purple ones shows up to keep them company. He’s complimented on the floral arrangements around the shop by every passer-by, but it isn’t until an old lady mentions their signification that he realises the gifts may mean something more.</p><p>“My, isn’t that an orange rose ?” she had asked, squinting behind her impossibly tiny glasses. He had stepped out onto the doorstep and craned his neck up, to find an array of flowers wedged in the cracks of the windmill’s arms. How they climbed up there, he’ll never know.</p><p>“It sure looks like it, ma’am,” he’d politely replied.</p><p>And she had given him a happy little laugh and smiled a proud little smile. Like a wise old sage, eager to share her infinite knowledge, she had told him in a thoughtful voice : “They convey enthusiasm, if my memory is correct. Given where they’ve been placed, the message is only stronger, don’t you think ?”</p><p>His mind had short-circuited long enough for the lady to conclude the conversation over, and he has to jog up the little path to catch up with her. She lifts her head and gives him a wide-eyed look, and panting he asks her if she’d lend him just a few minutes of her time, oh please, to tell him about the other flowers scattered around his home. The smile on her face had made her look ten years younger, and with an excited smile she had grabbed his arm and led him back to the shop.</p><p>Blooming red asters, for patience. Sycamores for curiosity. Buttercups for childishness. Short of talking to him, they’d set up a little code for him to decrypt, and it had taken him an embarrassingly long amount of time to get it. The lady kindly teases him for the disbelief that’s all over every inch of his face, but when he asks her one final question she’s delighted to answer. And thus, when he closes up for the day, a vine’s worth of wisteria flowers are hanging from his doorknob. Hospitality and welcome. He awaits the knock on his door with newfound eagerness, and remembers to buy more milk, just in case.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>“You are…” </em>Link writes, finger tracing affectionate (but wonky – it’s the thought that counts) cursives onto Ravio’s back, “<em>…a huge softie.”</em></p><p>“Maybe so !” he retorts, not without pleasure. “But really, I think I was just lonely. I’d just moved away, and I didn’t know anyone. I had an incredibly handsome and trustworthy face that looked <em>remarkably</em> like that of the great hero destined for glory, but I was tending to a tiny repair shop in the middle of nowhere. It was comforting to have a connection with someone, I suppose.”</p><p><em>“So warm-hearted,” </em>Link teases, and Ravio flicks him in return. The Hylian leans down to kiss his face and receives no more repartee.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The kids do end up knocking. Ravio’s barely awake when the enthusiastic sound of brass against wood resounds throughout the small room, but he’s out of bed within the minute, and the door’s open within the next. Somehow, they look younger without the glass in the way, eyes wide and full of the morning light. Had the girl not worn her hair in two clumsy braids, he wouldn’t have been able to tell her apart from her brother, sporting a bedhead that put his to miserable shame. They stare at him and he stares back, and finally shuffles aside to let them in.</p><p>As soon as the door closes, they ask their first question.</p><p>“What’s your name ?”</p><p>They’re both sitting on his couch, bare feet, brushing against the purple sheets. Their little hands are joined between them, the only clue giving away their intimidation. The girl’s eyes wander across his shop’s little displays, but the boy stares right at him. It’s a little disconcerting.</p><p>“Ravio,” he replies.</p><p>The kid’s face lights up into a smile, revealing the two teeth he’s missing. “Like the hero from the Legend !”</p><p>“It’s a popular name, right ?” Both of them stare at him for a moment, and under their strong gazes he feels sweat drip down his neck. “What’s yours, then ? I need to thank you for the flowers !”</p><p>“I’m Kan,” the boy tells him. The shine in his eye suggests he’s already forgotten all about the knight business.</p><p>“Ada,” the girl follows. “It took us all night to find what your flowers meant, because they weren’t in our book.”</p><p>She says it matter-of-factly, like a grownup might, and her eyes immediately start roaming again. She and her brother alike are dressed in thin tunics that look itchy and rough, bare legged and bare-armed. Their hair is a tangled mess. He wonders who takes care of these kids, and who taught them how to read.</p><p>“I had to ask an old lady for help,” he admits, and the confession pulls a smile out of both of them. “She told me wisteria meant welcome. In some faraway counties they have tunnels of them that stay up on their own, by the roots.”</p><p>“Really ?” both of them chorus, mouths hanging open.</p><p>“I dunno much about flowers myself, but she seemed pretty confident about it. I guess they can grow tall enough for even an adult to walk right through !”</p><p>“We know a lot,” Kan tells him. “Mum has a huge book at home. She calls it her, uh…”</p><p>“Enclopedia,” Ada nods, with absolute certainty. Ravio bites down a smile.</p><p>“Yeah ! It has aaaaaall the flowers in the world in it.”</p><p>“Except yours !”</p><p>“So we looked through all of it just in case –“</p><p>“But in the end we had to ask mum,” Ada finishes, and both of them sigh little wistful sighs.</p><p>He hadn’t expected them to be so talkative, not with such frail looks and wide eyes, but sitting close together they go on mumbling to each other under their breath. Both of them have smiles clinging to their lips, small but unwavering, and as she whispers in her brother’s ear Ada’s gaze continues its curious travel across his home. She’s not invading but analysing, and with every new box she uncovers her eyes widen a little. The eagerness on her rosy face makes pride swell in his chest. He sits down on the carpet in front of them and smiles.</p><p>“Whether the wisterias were right or not, welcome to my home !” He gestures at the space around them with enthusiastic hands. “It’s also my shop and a bit of laboratory, really.”</p><p>“What’s a laboratory ?” Kan asks.</p><p>“My mentor told me it’s a place where you try new things out. I only just moved, so it’s a bit of a mess, but I’ll clear it out… soonish.”</p><p>The kids have leaned in, their feet nearly touching the ground, swinging over the sofa’s edge. He too shifts forward and lowers his voice. “Right now I’m tinkering ‘n repairing stuff here and there, but what I <em>really </em>do is make machines ‘n devices that don’t exist yet. Where I grew up, they’d call me an engineer in training, only I’m kind of learning on my own. Now, I have two questions for you. D’you think you can answer them ?”</p><p>Looking at him with new reverence, the twins nod.</p><p>“OK. They’re both easy ones. The first is as follows : d’you want a glass of milk ?”</p><p>Another nod, this time quicker. Ada’s serious demeanour breaks into a grin.</p><p>“I’ll get them in a second,” he tells them, grinning right back. “Here’s the second question – and it might be a bit more interesting. How about I show you around ?”</p><p>Their final nod is so terrific that Kan topples right off the couch and dissolves in a fit of giggles, pulling his sister down with him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Around the little shop they go. Ravio is happy to ramble about each detail, and the twins listen with impeccable discipline, trailing right by him, one on each of his sides. They ask about the screws strewn across his desk (they’re destined to repair the neighbour’s carriage), the scrawled drawings pinned to his wall (early and mechanically improbable designs for his first rod), and the books he’s brought along across Lorule. Not once do they interrupt, but the explanations and questions follow each other so closely that morning becomes late afternoon before they’ve gone through half the room. Kan’s mouth is open, ready for another question, when his breath is taken away by a huge yawn. Ravio figures he’s talked their ears off for the time being and lets them curl up on the couch once more.</p><p>“Tell us about your idea again,” Ada requests, resting her head against her brother’s shoulder. In her relaxed position, all of her tiredness has gone up to her head at once, and she scrunches her nose up like a disgruntled cat. Her little eyes are already half closed. “The one you made drawings for.”</p><p>Out of his drawers comes a duvet, which he spreads out on top of them. “I’m afraid you’ll fall right asleep if I do !”</p><p>“Please,” Kan whispers, little hands pulling the blanket’s hem up to his chin. “Mum never has the time for bedtime stories.”</p><p>And both of them put what’s left of their energy into opening their eyes, wide and pleading – but had they not, he would have agreed anyway, and without a second thought. They’re tired, a blissful kind, but they’re not just listening : they’re following him, too. It’s something he’s picked up from his mentor, left some hundred miles to the east and no doubt deeply napping at this hour. You can’t refuse a person who follows your train of thought, kid, because if you do, you won’t come across another for a while. Hell, maybe you won’t come across another in your life ! Thus he goes over to the desk and pulls the tattered paper off the wall, settling down beside them, and hands them a few sheets each.</p><p>With two eager gazes on him, paper held tightly in sleepy grasps, he tries to address them like Lurelei had addressed him.</p><p>“Okay. So, it all relies on thermodynamics for now. My teacher gave me a lead on another technique, one that relies on chemistry, kind of – the way the world reacts to other bits of it – but I’m not confident with it yet. I’m trying to harness the balance between hot and cold, while making something that’s still safe to use. It’s all ridiculous for now, I mean, look ! Those ends don’t even meet, and there’s nothing between those bolts, but I think I can find a way to make the system usable. Actually, if I tilt it this way…”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“…Mr Hero ?”</p><p>“<em>Hhrngh.”</em></p><p>Link forces his eyes back open, struggling particularly with the right one, which has seemingly decided to go to sleep without him. He’s gotten used to the darkness enough to make out the curves of Ravio’s face, smiling impishly above him.</p><p>“Poor Link !” he laments, “I said ‘thermodynamics’ and lost him !”</p><p>
  <em>“That’s far too many letters for me to process !”</em>
</p><p>“It’s only fourteen,” Ravio says, like it’s nothing.</p><p>“<em>Coming from a man who doesn’t know the word ‘discount’ !” </em>Link teases right back, sitting up to face him. <em>“To each their weaknesses, right ?”</em></p><p>“That’s not a real word,” the Lorulean dismisses, and has to swallow an incriminating laugh when Link wraps his arms around him.</p><p>
  <em>“Let’s ask Rine next time she comes to see us.”</em>
</p><p>“We can’t go by her word, it won’t be objective !” he protests. A smile is leaking into his voice, and with his eyes closed, chin resting on his shoulder, Link can picture his face down to the spark in his eye that never quite disappears. “I guess since you’re a cherished patron of Ravio’s Shop, I can knock a few rupees off the bill, as long as you don’t fall asleep during the next part of my story.”</p><p><em>“I would never,” </em>Link mouths, in the distinctive tone of someone genuinely worried they might.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The twins last until the sun begins its journey over the horizon, and when the last of its shape disappears behind the grasslines they’re both huddled together, breathing out in long sighs and fast asleep. The sky’s getting dark already, and someone at home’ll be missing them soon. He’d carry them there if he could, and let them sleep undisturbed, but there’s two of them, and only one of him. Logistically, it’s an improbable bet.</p><p>He crouches down by the couch and sets the blanket over both their shoulders, tucking in cold feet. Kan’s leg trembles under his touch. The boy opens milky eyes, pulling his knees up to his chest under the thick wool. Ravio lifts his index to his lips, nodding at his snoring sister. Kan gives a very serious nod.</p><p>“I’ll carry her back if you guide me,” he whispers to the boy. “That way, we won’t have to wake her up.”</p><p>“Can I ride on your shoulders ?” Kan is already pushing the blanket off, climbing down the couch.</p><p>“I’m not sure I can carry both of you.”</p><p>“I swear we’re light !”</p><p>Ravio doesn’t doubt it, but the unsure grimace he’s got going on doesn’t disappear. If anything, it gets a little worse when he frowns, and Kan’s eyes turn pleading like a switch has been flipped.</p><p>“Oh, please !” he begs, voice dripping with persuasion. “I’ll be good. I swear I won’t wiggle. Look – you’ll barely even feel me !” He’s slipped behind him and climbed halfway up his back before the teen can even protest, and his legs are soon slung over his shoulders. “See ? Light as a feather, mum says.”</p><p>Well, there’s no discussing that. Besides a mild pressure on the back of his neck, Ravio can hardly tell he’s there. There’s something worrying about it, he’s sure, and the thought gets stuck in his throat. Kan rests both his hands on top of his head, threading his fingers through the loose locks at the top – still short, but getting longer – and the feeling is a small comfort.</p><p>“Ada’s a heavy sleeper,” he confides. “Once I kicked her out of bed ‘n she kept snoring on the floor for another hour ! You can grab her; she won’t wake up.”</p><p>Now that pulls a snort out of Ravio, who sits the young girl up and wraps her in the blanket. “My mentor told me that one morning, to get me out of bed, they emptied a glass of water right over my face. Apparently, it took three tries for me to wake up splutterin’. I never did find out if they were lying or not.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>“Lurelei did that to me too,” </em>Link grumbles. <em>“Only it was a bucket. And it worked.”</em></p><p>“Don’t they say old habits die hard ?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kan struggles to contain a wave of giggles, and Ravio has to cough lightly to avoid joining him; Ada, still unconscious, is easily lifted into his arms, blanket and all. She’s as light as her brother, and one arm is enough to support her – he uses the other to open the front door, and he, for three, steps into the night.</p><p>The air is cold but not biting and Kan doesn’t tremble once, arms wrapped around Ravio’s neck in a loose hold. The path to the centre of town is a straight line down the town’s crumbling wall (Date Set For Renovation ! a sign proudly announces, sitting lopsided on top of a loose brick) and they walk it in silence. The boy’s head is tilted back the whole time, bumping up and down with each of Ravio’s steps, and in his dark eyes the night’s stars twinkle, a thousand tiny suns, a thousand years away. Ada sleeps on, rocked in time with their pace.</p><p>The corner arrives too early, and Ravio turns it with a heavy heart. The buzz of happy chatter breaks through the silence, and dancing candles light up the darkness. Rowmore, in the early evening, goes on living. Down the street, market stalls spill out of the main square and onto the nearby alleyways, praising their goods and giving smiles to all, free of charge. Someone is trying their luck at playing the violin, and while the music is poor, spirits are high with laughter. Every jest makes it roar a little louder. Kan’s head, too, turns towards the commotion, and Ada stirs in her sleep.</p><p>But the boy doesn’t request they follow the ringing notes, nor shows any sign of paying attention to them. He grabs two handfuls of Ravio’s hair and, twisting it between his fingers, cries :</p><p>“Mum !”</p><p>Had the figure not turned her head at the call, he might never have noticed her. She’s standing by the nearest stall, squinting their way – her son waves both his arms above his head, and she comes rushing down the street, leaving behind her a trail of forlorn flowers pouring out of the basket at her wrist. In the moonlight, he has the time to make out the worried lines of her face. She brushes back the hair strands slipping out of her braid and takes a moment to breathe before addressing him, smoothing down her skirts. Her boots, crushing gravel beneath weak soles, are worn to holes.</p><p>“I’m sorry, sir,” she tells him, the words tumbling right out of her mouth. Her eyes are wide and distraught under his gaze. “They weren’t bothering you, were they ?”</p><p>“Not at all !” There’s something about her continued glances that’s unnerving, and he finds himself staring at little Ada instead. “They spent the day in my shop – the one down the old street, in the windmill. I hope that’s alright with you, ma’am.”</p><p>Kan nods, hooting happily. “Ravio’s really nice, mum ! He gave us milk ‘n told us all about science ‘n everything !”</p><p>“It was my pleasure ! You two are really clever.”</p><p>“He even let us nap on his sofa ‘n lent us a blanket !”</p><p>But the lady looks no less anxious, and reaches out to retrieve her daughter. Ravio helps her settle the child into her arms. She reaches to remove the blanket spread out on top of her, but he shakes his head furiously and extends a pacifying hand.</p><p>“Please keep it ! It’s a gift.”</p><p>The woman opens her mouth, lips trembling a little at the edges.</p><p>“To thank them for their company,” he adds, hoping to relax her, but her fidgeting only worsens. Only Ada’s little hand, rested against her bare shoulder, calms her enough for her to speak, and when she does, it’s with shame.</p><p>“We don’t…have any money to offer you.”</p><p>“I don’t want any,” he tells her honestly. The thought he might have intimidated her is unpleasant, and he reaches out to touch her arm. “I swear. I’m just happy I got to chat with those two. They’re curious ‘n brimming with ideas, so if you’re keen on doin’ something for me, please let them come over a few more times. I could teach them some stuff ‘n I reckon they could teach me in return, too.”</p><p>The words just come out on their own, but they come from the heart, or so he feels – the woman however only squints, her lips twisted downwards at the corners.</p><p>“You’re mighty young to speak so well. You hail from Castle Town, Erik says. S’that true ?”</p><p>“Yes.” There’s no reason to lie. Not to her, nor to Kan, wide awake and looking down upon them both with confusion.</p><p>“Is that so,” she wonders aloud, and lowers her gaze.</p><p>Kan takes this as his cue to climb down. He hops off from his perch and lands neatly on his feet, smiling at them in turn. His mother takes his hand and squeezes it tight – he makes a face in response, sticking out his tongue. Ada, breathing lightly, sneezes.</p><p>“Then on behalf of both my children and myself, thank you, Ravio. These two do as they please, so there isn’t much I can do to stop their little schemes. If it’s to you that they’ll go from now on, mayhap I’ll worry about them a little less. You’re good to them, I trust ?”</p><p>“He’s great !” Kan assures her, tugging on her hand.</p><p>“Then so be it. I’ll be taking them home now, before they fall fast asleep on the pavement.”</p><p>Ravio nods. She looks at him in the eye, now, and manages a smile. Whatever his answers held, they’ve proven him worthy of her trust, and the distinction mean more to him that he expected it to. His cheeks flush. Her smile widen just a little, before she places a hand on her son’s head and steers him back towards the street.</p><p>“Good night to you !” he calls, bowing his head.</p><p>“And to you,” she replies. “Bid him good night, Kan.”</p><p>Kan doesn’t hear her, or decides not to – his head is deep inside his mother’s basket, and from within he retrieves a flower, petals crumpled at the edges, which he holds out to him. It’s frail and pretty and familiar, like he’s seen it somewhere before. Between the seams of a blanket, perhaps.</p><p>He takes it from him and grins. “What does this one mean, then ?”</p><p>And it’s Ada who replies, her shiny eyes open only a crack.</p><p>“White geranium : see you soon.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Did they teach you all the flower meanings, over time ?”</em>
</p><p>“They taught me a fair few ! Those two were like a talking dictionary of plants and all sorts of other things. They talked so fast I bet I missed some, but I remember most of them.”</p><p>Link’s lips pull up into a coy smile. <em>“What flower would you give me ?”</em></p><p>“That’s easy !” Ravio scoffs, leaning back to poke Link’s chest with a pointed index. “White roses. For silence.”</p><p><em>“I can’t tell if that’s a sweet compliment or a threat,” </em>Link admits, deflating against him.</p><p>“Why can’t it be both ?”</p><p>
  <em>“You’re dodging the question, aren’t you ?”</em>
</p><p>“And you’re interrupting me again ! Legendary saviours have no respect these days !”</p><p><em>“White roses it is,” </em>he grumbles, lying back down. With one arm resting beneath his head, he asks :<em> “What happened after that evening, then ?”</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"The kids come back. They come back more than once – in fact, I see them nearly every day for close to three years. They don’t get any heavier over time, but they do become much quicker, ‘n by the time they’re ten they know everything I know about mechanics. Frankly, I run on instincts when it comes to engineering, so explaining it was a nightmare, but even when I was unhelpful at best, they got it. They’re really quick kids, and so damn curious about everything around them from the weather to astronomy. Sometimes even I didn’t have a clue how to answer their questions, so we’d sit outside if the weather was nice ‘n read all day long to find them. They loved science ‘n everything I had to share with them, but each had their little dream already. Ada belonged in a garden with her hands gripping the roots of whatever rare flower she’s bred this time, ‘n Kan… Well, Kan wanted to be a seamster. None of us had holes in our clothes by the time he turned nine."</p><p>And one winter morning they come by with a present.</p><p>The little bell he’s set up at the top of the door rings merrily. He hurriedly lifts his head, blinking the last sparks of his dream out of his eyes. The red mark his screwdriver’s left on his cheek he thoroughly ignores. A quick cough is enough to clear his voice before he calls, in that distinctive customer-service voice he’s been practicing :</p><p>“Welcome to Ravio’s Shop ! Wo– oh, it’s you two. Close the door, it’s freezing out there !”</p><p>Ada and Kan look at him with thinly-veiled amusement. They’re both wearing what could be described as raincoats as best, thick cardigans at worse, and look perfectly comfortable. The boy goes to the fireplace and throws in one of the few pieces of wood strewn around it.</p><p>“Working hard ?” Ada asks, climbing onto the back of his chair. “Isn’t that screw in the wrong place, by the way ?”</p><p>“I only just woke up,” he grumbles, scratching his cheek with a charred fingernail. The piece of metal is swapped for another, and ends up tightened at the other end of the work frame. “Breakfast ?”</p><p>Kan, cheeks bulging with half-chewed biscuits swiped right off the table, manages a grin. “Yes please !”</p><p>“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” comes his sister’s curt reply.</p><p>“Why are you up so early, anyway ? Planning on skippin’ school again ?” There’s something wrong about the way the wires connect – he shakes the rod a few times, and feels a satisfying twitch. “Your mother’ll march over here again and tell me off if you do. Spare me that, please !”</p><p>“She doesn’t have to know,” Kan remarks, licking crumbs off his fingers. “Last time, stupid Kent from the bakery told on us. But he wasn’t laughin’ so hard when he realised our fungi started eating his wheat !”</p><p>Ravio shakes his head. “I’d tell you off if Kent wasn’t such a twat !”</p><p>“Besides, you’re a better teacher than the ones at school,” Ada says. “You don’t talk down to us.”</p><p>“And here on this map, children, is our fair little Rowmore,” Kan mocks, his voice a nasal kind of deep. “This blue line here is a river. A river is lots of water so make sure not to drown in it or you might die, which would be bad !”</p><p>His audience cracks a smile, but all he does is scowl at the now empty cookie plate. With his hands clean and his stomach full, he walks over to the desk and looks over Ravio’s shoulder, sharing half the space with his twin.</p><p>“We’re headed there anyway,” she sighs, and there’s a touch of misery in her voice that makes him want to hug her tight. “Mum says we can’t miss anymore classes, or we’ll be dismissed.”</p><p>“I’m glad you stopped by on your way ! Tell you what – if you can get through your whole day of boredom, I’ll let you two tinker with the prototypes on your way home ! But, uh, they’re still a bit unpredictable, so I’d rather we do it outside. I’ll lend you some scarves ‘n we’ll get to work !”</p><p>“Speaking of which– !” Ada exclaims, and is about to take another breath when her brother clamps a hand over her mouth and smiles.</p><p>“Speakin’ of nothing !” he corrects, letting her go only after she stamps on his foot. “It’s a surprise, isn’t it, sis ?”</p><p>Flushing under her drooping fringe, the young girl nods fervently. “A surprise.”</p><p>“It’s got nothin’ to do with the cold, or anythin’ like that.”</p><p>“Entirely unrelated !”</p><p>“You can forget all about it !”</p><p>Ravio can hide his grin behind a hand, but the glint in his eye can’t be crushed, and the twins regard it with visible frustration. Ada kicks her brother in the shin – the boy glares into her face, but the little nod she gives back gets the message through. He pulls on his bag’s strap and tugs the buckles free.</p><p>“Well, maybe not all about it,” the boy grumbles. He turns his back on him, rummaging through the tattered leather. Ada steps in front of him in an effort to shield him from view and gives a beaming smile.</p><p>“Close your eyes !”</p><p>“Okay then,” Ravio complies, amusement lighting up his face. He bites his lip, listening closely to every rustle of fabric and soft, whispered curses uttered – some of them most definitely his fault. “Don’t keep me waiting too long !”</p><p>The twins do not. Brief deliberation occupies the silence, and before long unsure mumbles become decisions. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle when wool invades their space and brushes against his skin, coming to settle on his shoulders. It’s carefully woven. Not an itch arises to bother him, and the knitting is soft in his hands.</p><p>“You can open them, now.”</p><p>He really wants to, at least to see their faces, but this is one of those moments when time is precious and he has some to spare. His fingers gently dive into the wool and push against its texture, taking in each irregularity, each twist. The fabric is soft and light in his palm. He feels it until he knows its every detail, and when he opens his eyes all that’s left to discover is its colour. Light and dark blue. The striped scarf loosely sits around his neck.</p><p>“We made it together,” Kan says. “Ada helped me choose the colours, ‘n we knitted it together.”</p><p>“We dyed the wool,” she provides. “With blue hyacinth. I hope it doesn’t discolour, but it shouldn’t – after all, hyacinths mean –“</p><p>“Constancy,” her brother finishes, and both of them set their large, hopeful eyes on him.</p><p>It takes him a few seconds to get the words out, not because he can’t choose them but because he feels them so intensely that they’re hard to pronounce. “Thank you.”</p><p>And both of them look younger when they smile, almost as young as they’d been when they fell asleep in his garden, and they look so thrilled that Ravio’s heart nearly aches – he too wants to grin his face right off, because this isn’t any old project of theirs, many of which have ended up on his shelves. The craftmanship that’s run through his fingers speaks of hours of work and focus that neither of them would ever admit to. The scarf smells of lavender – <em>good luck – </em>so strongly that the scent surrounds him, but every leaf, every petal, has been carefully brushed out. The scarf smells of lavender but it also <em>reeks </em>of love, and he finds himself beaming.</p><p>“I’ll wear it every day,” he promises. “I’ll wear it to bed ‘n in the bath ‘n I’ll wear it every time I go out into town, ‘n I’ll proudly tell anyone who asks that Kan and Ada made it for me, yes they did. I love it ! It’s so soft – it’s like a blanket, really. I can’t thank you two enough for it ! I’ll keep it with me my whole life. I swear !”</p><p>They let out loud sighs of relief and fall upon him like a pair of cubs, wrapping their arms around him tightly. He holds them close and places two sweet kisses on their foreheads, getting unrestrained giggles out of them.</p><p>“We’re so glad you like it !” Ada cheers.</p><p>Kan nods, narrowly missing Ravio’s jaw in his enthusiasm. “We made it to thank you !”</p><p>“What in the world for ?” he laughs, ruffling the boy’s already nest-like hair. The boy’s an ace with a needle, but hairbrushes are another story. “Knowing you two, it’s something ridiculous, like teaching you how to make ice bubbles last week.”</p><p>“Wrong !” they chorus in his face, and he puts on his humble face, much to their amusement.</p><p>“It’s for a serious reason !” Ada pokes him. “We’re serious kids !”</p><p>“Of course you are.”</p><p>“I can see you laughing, Ravio !”</p><p>“It <em>is </em>a serious reason,” Kan insists, tugging on the scarf’s end. “We didn’t know how to tell you, so we made you something instead, but to us you’re our…”</p><p>“Dear big brother,” Ada joins him, and the words, in their happy voices, ring around the room in two tones.</p><p>Oblivious to their weight, both of them hop off him and dust off their clothes; with what he had to say said, Kan goes back to buckling the strap on his bag and throws it over his shoulder. Ada, glad the gift was well-received, moves onto the bookshelf and pulls out a few of the ones she hasn’t yet devoured. It takes one whole minute for them to look at him again, and when they do, they gasp as one.</p><p>“Are you crying ?”</p><p>“No ! I have something in my eye !”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“So I wept like a baby.”</p><p><em>“I’d guessed,” </em>Link drawls, gaze fixed on the ceiling. Ravio’s gone back to using him as a mattress, and he doesn’t mind one bit. <em>“That’s a very you thing to do.”</em></p><p>“I think it’s the kindest thing they could have said to me,” he muses. His legs kick thoughtfully through the air. “I half-wailed that I loved them too, but it didn’t really come close to how much what they told me meant. They were just… really special kids.”</p><p>At this point, Link bites his tongue and wonders how these things usually go. Should he ask, or let the story reach its conclusion by itself, uninterrupted ? Most people would prefer to be helped along, but Ravio is not most people. His laughter, breaking through the silence, isn’t at all unexpected.</p><p>“I can hear you thinking, Mr Hero.”</p><p><em>“I’m waiting,” </em>he admits. <em>“For you to continue.”</em></p><p>“That’s fair.” The Lorulean is silent for a moment. Link listens to his breathing, still rhythmic and slow. “It’ll be less continuing and more finishing, though. Then again, if I went on for much longer, you’d definitely fall asleep on me again !”</p><p>Link, for once perfectly aware, sees diversion for what it is and doesn’t bite back.</p><p>“I was a bit older, but still a kid, ‘n kids like to think everything is about them. I’d been taken away by my parents at birth, I’d had to run away from my childhood friend, then my mentor – and when at last I’d found a new family, I lost it again. For a while I was so bitter that I wasn’t going anywhere, just rammin’ my head into the wall. I had to turn my thinking around, see things from their eyes rather than mine, ‘n when I did things got better.</p><p>They fell sick. I still don’t know if it was a nasty virus that wormed into them, or some kind of poisoning from the flowers they grew – I know Ada would have loved the latter, but frankly, I think it was just a shitty cold. They lived badly enough that something so tiny turned into a nasty mess, that no one knew how to treat. It would be poetic to say I saw ‘em slowly decline and stayed with them, trying to find a solution, but the truth is… I had no idea. One day they were there and the next, they were gone.”</p><p>Ada sneezes. But Ada always sneezes, much like her twin – all year through they drag along a tenacious but minor runny nose, that only hot tea and honey can ward off for a while. Ravio always has a pot at home, ready and steaming on the counter. Ada sneezes and he gives her a cup like he always does. She thanks him as usual and goes back to her reading. That’s the end of the matter, as it has been for the past three years. Later she finishes her book and drags her drowsy brother home by the collar, and both of them wave goodbye and see you tomorrow.</p><p>The next day the tea is left untouched and the door remains closed.</p><p>Worry doesn’t start to sink its teeth into him until the fourth day he, alone, waits for a knock that never comes. No news, no word – not even a letter or a letter, left forlorn on his front step. He knows the twins, and they know him. They’re not busy, or playing around. There’s something wrong.</p><p>Feeling like he’s waited too long already he throws his scarf around his neck and laces his boots unevenly, not bothering to lock the door behind him. The early autumn wind, carrying the promise of rain, helps propel him down the old street, tensely keeping himself from running. Everyone he runs into on the way is ruthlessly shaken by the shoulders and asked what they know, but all know nothing. Most give him the condescending look they reserve for those who sympathise with the poor. Few pat him on the shoulder and wish him luck on his search.</p><p>His legs take him to the twins’ front door, a feeble thing built from driftwood and infested with vines wrapping around the door handle. Ada’s work. With little hope he tries it, but it’s locked, and tightly so. His fist pounds against the door instead, expecting at least a shuffle, a cough, the smallest sign of life, but only his echo reaches him, and his throat tightens with despair.</p><p>He goes back to the windmill and does what he’s gotten good at, over the years : wait. It’s a process of quietening the loud voices in his head, who scream tragedy and only quicken his pulse. They’re not easily shushed, and so he takes the more extreme resolution to smother them. From five in the morning to one the next day he works until his hands ache and he’s bleeding again. He sleeps tensely. On the tenth day he closes the shop and draws the curtains, toiling away by the light of a candle. The voices are gone, and in their place he finds harrowing silence. He hates it even more, and finds himself going over the edge with worry. By the twelfth day there’s little left of his nails. When two weeks have gone by since the twins’ last visit, and with the fire rod laying complete on his desk, he goes back into the world to find all the leaves are falling. The ground is a mosaic of brown and orange, crunching under his boots.</p><p>On the main square he finds Irene. (“<em>Their mother ?”</em> – “That’s right.”) Her pale hands are wound tightly together around her basket’s handle. Today it’s full of bluebells and marigold. Not a single coin glistens within, but he can tell that’s not the reason she’s weeping – when she sees him coming her eyes go wide, and a sea of tears come a-slipping down her cheeks. She’s riddled with grief even beyond her basket, and as he reaches her, she grabs his hand and squeezes it until his skin’s gone white.</p><p>“Ada and Kan,” he inquires in a whisper. Her eyes are a terrible sight. “Where…”</p><p>And the woman chokes on an uncontrollable sob, and falls forward into his arms. The basket drops and the wind carries the petals across the cobbled square. “Over behind the church,” she says, warbled voice swallowed by the wool she’s sobbing into, masking its sweet odour of lavender – <em>good luck – </em>and he already knows what she’s telling him but she keeps going, unstoppable in her pain : “They’re gone, Ravio – my poor children are gone !”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“<em>I’m… sorry,” </em>is all Link manages, and barely. The story has left him a little cold. He reaches out to touch Ravio’s face, expecting it to be wet and hoping to comfort him, but somehow, the idiot is smiling. His surprise must show on what little of his face is visible, because his companion has to muffle a laugh behind his hand.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says, when most of the chuckling has been purged from his voice. “No, really – don’t scowl at me like that, Mr Hero ! I accept your condolences, and gladly ! But I’m alright. I had a good three years to turn my thoughts inside and out. I always felt like I could have done more, but those long days I spent with them, tinkering with anything we got our hands on; those were better than nothing at all. And they didn’t go on their own. Never one without the other !”</p><p>For a moment Link imagines what things would be like, had he come back to find Rine dead in the flames along with his village. All that comes of it is a pit of dread sinking down his stomach, making him feel faint in the head, and the spark of anger he knows could light up his soul in an instant. But Ravio’s sitting on top of him, and his eyes still sparkle, and his lips still smile. The words coming out of his mouth are so reasonable that they’re painful to hear, after the end of his tale. For a moment he wonders if it’s the Triforce of Wisdom talking, or if Ravio is just incredibly strong. Looking him in the eye, and catching his smile spreading just a little, he decides it’s not his Triforce, but what he makes of it. Then he leans in and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, pulling a delighted squeak out of him.</p><p><em>“I’ll make sure you get it back,” </em>he tells him. <em>“The scarf.”</em></p><p>Ravio snorts against his shoulder, curls ticking his neck. “Using what ? Your incredible heroic vibes ? Your noble status ?”</p><p><em>“We just saved the kingdom,” </em>he grumbles back. <em>“Surely we can use that to our advantage a little.”</em></p><p>“Then I’d better thank you in advance. I’m looking forward to having it back !”</p><p>They sit together in a rare moment of silence. Link leans back and lets his back come to rest against the end of the bed, allowing his partner to lie against him. Ravio’s breathing is gentle. His arms, wrapped securely around Link’s neck, feel tenser than they should. The Hylian’s thumbs rub soothing circles into the back of his tunic and hears him sigh into his shoulder.</p><p>“I do miss them. Often. It’s an ungrateful sort of feeling, isn’t it ?”</p><p> <em>“I don’t think so,” </em>Link tells him. <em>“We always want more time. And you didn’t tell me much about them, but I doubt they died unhappy. Three years of your life is a big gift to share with someone, right ?”</em></p><p>“Yeah.” Chin hooked over Link’s shoulder, he breathes out slowly. “And if they caught me moping around like this they’d tease me relentlessly !”</p><p>With these words in mind he shifts off of Link and runs a tired hand down his face. His head tilts downward, and for a second Link thinks he might start crying – but when he lifts his head his smile is more sincere than any before it.</p><p>“Were they here your flower would be chosen within an instant ! They would have suggested two different ones, of course – for Ada’s part, gladiolus, for a strong heart and mind. Kan would have proposed camellias for gratitude. Those are two pretty good ideas, don’t you think ?”</p><p>“<em>Sure,” </em>Link nods, reaching out to take his hand. On his palm he traces the rest of his answer. “<em>But I’d rather hear which one you’d choose, yourself.”</em></p><p>Ravio’s smile turns into a pout, and he blows his cheeks out prettily. “You’re very stubborn, Mr Hero.”</p><p>
  <em>“So I’ve been told !”</em>
</p><p>“There must be a reas– hey !”</p><p>The Lorulean dodges Link’s attempt to grab him with practiced ease, and moves out of the way of his kissing with praisable agility – he plants a kiss on the young man’s nose before the other can and stops him right in his tracks, chuckling merrily. Wallowing in a blushing defeat, Link crosses his arms over his chest and turns his nose up.</p><p>“Four-leaf clover,” Ravio tells him. He’s clearly struggling not to laugh at his expression, and not doing a very good job at it. “You make it pretty hard to think, dear, but my mind is made up !”</p><p><em>“Huh ?” </em>Link turns his head back towards him. <em>“Aren’t those for good luck ?”</em></p><p>“Each leaf has a different meaning. Luck is just one of them !”</p><p>
  <em>“Well, what are the others ?”</em>
</p><p>There’s something overly-eager about the wide look in his eyes – Link doesn’t show such expressions very often, and Ravio takes a moment to enjoy it a little longer. Perhaps too long a moment, because he’s ruthlessly kicked in the knee, and goes down gasping like he’s been shot.</p><p>“You’re heartless, Mr Hero, and unfittingly impatient !”</p><p>
  <em>“I can kick you again, if you’d like.”</em>
</p><p>“No thank you ! No thank you – I’ll tell, if I must. Ah ! But does Hyrule Castle have a library, by any chance ?”</p><p><em>“Yeah,” </em>Link says, before he can stop himself. The word is out, and he realises too late that he should have kept it to himself. Ravio’s eyes are narrow and shiny in the dark, making his sly smirk look just a little more evil.</p><p>Maybe there’s time to take it back, to get himself back into Ravio’s good graces – he can convince him with some sweet kisses, surely – but the Lorulean is already advancing towards him like a hungry panther towards its pray, climbing back into his lap and pushing him onto his back. His face hovers above him, still wearing that alarming grin. Their noses brush together, and for a second he feels Ravio’s breath on his face. Leaning on top of him, eyes sparkling with mischief, he delivers the final blow :</p><p>“Then you’ll just have to <em>look it up.”</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t I tell you to rest ?! How many times –“</p><p>The nurse’s shrill voice cuts shorts. With patients as absurdly undisciplined as these two, shouting has become an unpleasant habit, but perhaps she’s gotten ahead of herself, this time. The room is as dark as it was when she left it, thick curtains still untouched and in place. One of the beds is empty, crumpled sheet spilling onto the floor – <em>again – </em>but its owner isn’t very far. In fact, he’s just in the next bed over, curled up on top of the pillows. Pressed against his side, the hero that saved them all sleeps soundly, chest heaving with slow motions. She pauses in the doorway to take in the sight – she’s wise enough to know that it won’t happen again. Those two are definitely defiant, but when they’ve got their mouths shut, they’re a little endearing, too.</p><p>She gives the room a small regulatory bow before closing the door behind her, careful not to make a sound. She’s halfway down the corridor when Ravio cracks his eye open.</p><p>“Did she buy it ?”</p><p>
  <em>“She fell for it head first !” </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>